With the announcement that Merlin is ending at the end of Series 5, I wanted to write something to ease the pain of its passing. And throw in a few of my favourite characters from Lord of the Rings as well, just because I could! Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

The tapping on the car window made me jump. An old man was standing by my car in the pub car park. He looked a lot like Gandalf, but it wasn't really that surprising as I was dressed as an elf. Or, rather, an Elven Princess rather than one of Santa's Little Helpers. I opened the window.

'Elizabeth Groves?' he asked. No one called me Elizabeth except my parents if they were being disapproving.

'Beth, yes.'

'There's a change of venue. The address is here. And can you give this envelope to Wayne for me? Thank you, my dear.'

I put the new postcode into the sat nav and followed the directions. It wasn't far but took me down a narrow lane I'd not noticed before.

'Turn left now.'

'There IS no left turn!' I shouted pointlessly at the sat nav. 'It's just a track!'

'Turn left NOW.' The voice was suddenly menacing and I wasn't sure I liked being bullied by technology.

It was dark, there was no signal on my mobile, and so, with absolutely no idea where I was, I turned left, bumping down the rutted track in the hope that I'd get back onto a proper road or find the pub. That man must have given me the wrong postcode, but he'd seemed very sure.

'So much for a relaxing holiday,' I muttered. I had planned a week away, just driving where I fancied, booking in to B&Bs, having some "me time". Alison's fancy dress birthday party was just the start and I was due to stay overnight with her.

As the track twisted into woods, the headlights picked out a figure as it rolled down the bank at the side of the road and came to a halt in front of the car. I turned on the main beam and it raised its arm, shielding its eyes from the light. Slowly I opened the driver's door, gripping a torch tightly in case this was a scam and I was going to get my head battered.

'Are you OK?' I called. There was a groan, and the figure contracted in pain. I crouched down in front of the man. 'Can I help you?' and then I noticed that there was blood on the front of his jacket. 'Wait there,' I said, rather unnecessarily, and returned with the first aid kit from the car. I pulled up the front of his shirt. It looked like a stab wound, oozing blood, but not desperately deep. So much for a holiday from work.

I was just taking one more look when another figure leapt from the trees. He crouched on the track about ten yards away, his white-blond hair gleaming in the moonlight. He appeared to be wearing a tunic of some kind over . . . tights? And he was carrying . . . well, it looked like a bow and arrow, but a lot more authentic than the one that had come with my costume.

'Aragorn, are you injured?'

Of course! They must be going to the same party I was. I stood. 'Legolas, I presume.'

He bowed slightly. 'My lady, you know me?'

'Very funny. But I think your friend's hurt.'

'We can take him to the inn.' That sounded good. 'But first I must slay the dragon.'

Dragon? That sounded less good. I turned round to see what he was looking at. My car, engine still running, door open, lights ablaze, exhaust fumes clouding behind it.

'It's . . . not a dragon. It's my car.' The word didn't register. Wow, they really were in character. 'It's tame. One minute.'

I edged the car off the track and put Alison's birthday card and present, and the envelope I'd been given by the old man, into my voluminous handbag. Hopefully the party wasn't far - I could do with a drink.

We helped Aragorn down the track. He appeared to rally but was still leaning on us for support. In the distance I could see the lights of what I hoped was the pub. A beer would go down very nicely just now.

As we approached the pub, a rather scary short person leapt onto the track brandishing a very realistic looking sword. Wow, some party, they even had real dwarves.

'Gimli, it's us. Aragorn is hurt.'

'And who is this?'

'She gave aid.'

We sat Aragorn down on a nearby tree trunk. 'Hi, my name's Beth.' He waited. 'Beth. Elizabeth.' More waiting. 'Elizabeth Groves, daughter of Dave and Eileen. Of Guildford.'

That seemed to satisfy him. Gimli bowed deeply and muttered gruffly, 'Lady Elizabeth.'

'Just Beth. Now, I really think we should get Aragorn to the inn.' We were suddenly surrounded by more dwarves. Except they weren't the same as Gimli.

'Hobbits!' I squealed. 'There should be . . . four of you? Erm, Frodo?' There was a nod. 'Samwise?' Another nod.

'Merry and Pippin,' came the two remaining voices in unison. Like Ant and Dec, I was never sure which one was which.

'You know of us?' Frodo asked.

'Oh yes. Read the book, seen the films, played the computer game.' They glanced at each other. 'Yep, the ring, the hobbits, Mount Doom, that big glowy eye . . .'

'She knows of the quest,' said a voice behind me.

I was a little surprised to feel a knife at my throat and wondered what I'd done wrong.

'Boromir, leave her! She's no foe,' Legolas said.

The knife was slowly lowered and a man circled in front of me. Ooh, better and better. Boromir, Legolas and Aragorn. Hot, hotter and hottest. All armed and dangerous. Well, if I was going to be in a dark wood with some strange men, I could definitely do worse than the testosterone trio.

'Are you coming with us to the inn?' Legolas asked Boromir.

'I'd better go back and see if I can find what attacked Aragorn,' and he swiftly disappeared.

Not feeling quite so ridiculous in my elf costume, we helped Aragorn up the pathway to the entrance. As we approached, the door opened and a large man in short sleeves deposited two small men on the path. He held the door open for us all as the recently ejected men muttered under their breath and stalked off into the night.

'No weapons inside, please,' he said.

'What? Oh. This?' And I shrugged off the plastic bow from around my neck and left it by the door with the quiver of arrows alongside assorted swords, hammers and, well, objects I didn't even recognise, some of them looking distinctly blood stained.

'Is this The Crossed Swords Inn?' I asked.

'It is.'

'Is Alison here?'

'Alison?' The name appeared to mean nothing to him.

'Oh well, I'd better get Aragorn inside and have a look at his wound.'

Legolas and I helped Aragorn over the threshold, and the tall man cleared a path through dwarves, more hobbits, what looked like a troll in the corner, and a couple more men in elf costume. These people had gone to considerable trouble for this party although I was beginning to wonder where Alison was and why there was no one here who I actually recognised.

I settled Aragorn on one of the long benches and asked the tall man for some hot water and clean cloths. Before he could answer, a small body came sliding towards me along the smooth wooden table. The bouncer, as that was what I assumed he was, scooped him up and neatly bowled him back.

'I'll get the water,' he said, as though his actions were an everyday occurrence.

He returned quickly, and, assisted by Legolas, I cleaned Aragorn's wound. As I examined it, it seemed to almost disappear, certainly looking less severe than it had on the path, although the light was very dim in here. Anyway, I dressed it and he soon revived, declaring that he could no longer feel any pain.

'How did you get injured?' I asked.

'Orcs?' Legolas suggested.

Aragorn shook his head. 'Sheep.' We both stared at Aragorn, who looked a little, well, sheepish. 'One chased me and I tried to jump a fence and . . . slipped. I don't like sheep,' he finished lamely. I briefly wondered how he'd fared filming in New Zealand, but then confused myself thinking that this seemed to be at the beginning of the quest for them as they still had the ring. 'If Lady Elizabeth hadn't saved me, well . . . I am in your debt, my lady,' and he lifted my hand and kissed it.

Sitting upright and moving into the candlelight, I was relieved to see that he looked very much like he did in the films. Whatever the situation I was currently in, I decided I could live with that gratitude.

As the tall man returned to check on Aragorn, I asked him where I could find Wayne. He nodded over to the bar. Seated on it, legs stretched out, leaning against one of the wooden struts at the end, was a rather good looking man. His dark hair curled onto the collar of his burgundy tunic, his profile was strong, a neatly trimmed beard surrounding a laughing mouth. He twisted round as I approached, turning merry hazel eyes on me, his hair swishing as he jumped down from the bar. It was quite impressive, the hair swishing.

'My lady,' he said.

'Hello. Erm, I'm looking for . . . Wayne?'

'I think you'll find that's Gwaine.'

'I thought he'd said Wayne . . . But I suppose it could be Gwaine. Like the knight!'

He bowed before me and raised my hand to his lips. 'Sir Gwaine at your service,' he replied.

'Yes, yes of course,' I replied, laughing. 'The party. And I should have recognised the hair.'

'Party?' he questioned, straightening.

'Yes. Of course, that was Sir Percival at the door.'

'Yes. We bought this hostelry when we left Camelot.'

'Priceless. I see Sir Percival is still rocking the bare armed look.'

'Ah yes, I'm afraid the sleeve allergy is no better in the Shire than it was in Camelot.'

'Ha! And we thought it was just the writers wanting him to show off his biceps for the laydees.'

'I'm sorry, I do not know . . .'

'And Gwaine wasn't much better, was he? Those caves in Arthur's Bane. Just an excuse for you to get topless, wasn't it? Even though we could see it was freezing down there. Not that I was complaining.'

'You could see us? In the caves? What type of magic is this?'

'Magic? No, it was Merlin on BBC1.'

'Merlin? You have seen him? And there were bees? And the sea? And who won what?'

I was starting to get confused. Again. 'Anyway, I have something for you,' and tucked my hair behind my ear as I rummaged in my handbag.

'My lady, do you have some elf in you?' Legolas said, standing behind me.

'No!' I said, hurriedly pulling my freshly straightened chestnut hair back over my ever so slightly pointed ears.

'Well, would you like some?'

As I looked at Legolas, I could see Gwaine double over with laughter. 'I can't believe you just asked her that,' he said, wiping away a tear with the back of his hand.

'It was you who gave me that line!' Legolas protested.

'Have you actually used it before?' I asked.

'Erm, yes.'

'And has it ever worked?'

'Erm, no.'

'Promise me something, Legolas, or whatever your real name is, don't ever use that line again.'

'I promise. But my name really is Legolas.'

'Of course it is. And he's really Gwaine, and that's really Aragorn . . .'

'Yes . . .'

'And I think I need a drink.'

'I'll get some,' Gwaine replied, 'and then you can give me this message.'

He returned with beers for Aragorn, Legolas and himself and a small cup of something which he placed in front of me. I smiled up my thanks, but then tasted it and coughed. I immediately picked up Aragorn's beer and took a swig of that, much to the amusement of both men. Gwaine turned around a chair and put his foot on it, leaning on his knee towards me. Nice boots.

'So, this message?' he asked.

'Oh yes, here it is,' and I handed him the envelope. He opened it, read a few lines, looked at me and then handed it to Aragorn.

'It's from Gandalf.' He turned swiftly as another dwarf headed down the table towards us at high speed, stopped it, and then shoved it back in the opposite direction. I went to speak, but then changed my mind.

'What IS this drink?' I asked lifting up the small goblet I'd originally been given.

'Erm, it's supposed to be rose wine.'

'What?'

'Well, we don't get many women in here . . .'

'I'm not surprised if you serve them that!'

Gwaine picked it up, sniffed it suspiciously and then took a sip. He started to gag which made both Aragorn and me laugh. 'Serves you right,' I said. 'Now can I have a proper drink?'

'Yes, sorry.' Gwaine looked rather penitent. 'What would you like?'

'Sex on the beach?' I suggested. Aragorn started laughing while Gwaine looked at me in horror. They really were too easy to tease. 'Or a beer,' and I nodded at Aragorn's cup.

'What is this place?' I asked Aragorn as Gwaine disappeared behind the bar. 'Great atmosphere for a party, though.' But he was busy looking at the document from Gandalf. I couldn't read much of the letter, but there were a couple of words I recognised. 'Ooh, Mount Doom! You'll be on your way there, then?'

'You are aware of our quest?'

'To destroy the ring? Yes.'

Aragorn called over one of the hobbits. 'Lady Beth-'

'Just Beth,' I corrected.

'Lady Beth knows about the ring, Frodo. Or at least, about the quest. She may have information for us.'

'A quest you say?' said Gwaine, returning with more beers for everyone. 'This I must hear.'

There wasn't much room at the table and I found myself crushed against Gwaine. It was not unpleasant. But instead of looking excited, Frodo looked on the verge of tears.

'What's the matter, Frodo?' I asked. 'Are you scared?'

'No! No, it's not that. It's just that . . . I've lost the ring.'

'Lost it?' Gwaine asked. 'Lost? Or stolen by the Ringwraiths?'

'No . . . lost.'

'But where?'

'Erm, I think down the back of the sofa.'

'But . . . ?'

'And then it disappeared.'

'The ring?'

'No, the sofa. I know it was old but didn't realise it was so sick. But now we need to find it.'

'So . . . you're now on a quest for a sofa?' I asked.

Frodo nodded sadly. This wasn't quite my recollection of the story.

'And you have no idea where this sofa might be?'

'No,' Frodo said forlornly.

'So what brings you here? By the way, where is "here"?'

All eyes turned towards Legolas. 'Fangorn Forest,' he said. 'I . . . thought it might have come back to its spawning ground.'

I rubbed my hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh. I had an image of a sofa skipping through the trees on sturdy little legs, returning to its home tree.

'But . . . ?' I prompted.

'It wasn't here,' Legolas muttered.

'And . . . ?'

He shrugged. 'We don't know. We're stuck. And the quest is doomed.' He now looked on the verge of tears. I stopped finding it funny. They really believed in this. I knew I must be hallucinating . . . or something, but I desperately wanted them to find the ring.

'What does this sofa look like?'

'It's red velvet, with a wooden base,' said Frodo. 'But it had gone a bit saggy. I didn't realise it was so close to death.'

'Not much of a quest,' Gwaine commented. 'Looking for a sofa.'

'Lady Beth has already tamed a dragon,' Legolas pointed out.

Gwaine looked impressed. 'A dragon? Any other talents?'

'Many,' I replied, glancing towards him, but holding his gaze. I had the sudden urge to run my fingers through his hair to see if it was as soft and flowing as it looked, but the moment was broken by Frodo bursting into tears.

'There, there,' I said, patting him on the back. 'You will find your ring.'

'How do you know I will?'

'Because . . .' I realised that I wasn't entirely sure, but I couldn't just sit and watch a hobbit cry. 'Because you have two Knights of the Round Table-'

'Ex knights,' Gwaine interrupted.

'Once a knight . . . is never enough. I mean, once a knight, always a knight. So who better than helping you on a quest?' I continued.

'Percival?' Gwaine called.

'What?'

'They want to know if we want to go on a quest?'

Percival thought for a moment. 'I have kind of missed the questing.'

'We'll get to wear chainmail again.'

'And cloaks.'

'And have real sword fights.'

'And ride horses.'

'Actually, I could live without the horses, if I'm honest,' Gwaine said. 'Mine always tried to walk into trees.'

'That's because you couldn't control it.'

'I expected it to have a modicum of sense.'

'Why? We expected no such thing from you,' Percival said drily.

Gwaine ignored the comment. 'So are we going on this quest?'

'Of course we are! Er, what is it?'

But he was called away to deal with some arguing trolls before anyone could brief him. There was much excited talk around the table of provisions and routes and horses and weapons, all accompanied by beer and more beer. Only Frodo sat quietly, nursing the same drink for the rest of the evening.

I yawned and there was immediate concern about my welfare.

'My lady, you must sleep,' Legolas said. 'We will make room for you by our camp fire. You can have my blanket.'

'Your blanket? No, no, thank you, I will sleep in the car. I'll be fine. And then just carry on with my holiday tomorrow.' I had finally reached the conclusion that this was not Alison's birthday party and that the offer of her spare room would not be forthcoming but I'd drunk far too much to drive home.

'And how will we protect you if you sleep in the belly of the dragon?' Legolas asked.

'Wait,' Gwaine interrupted. 'You said "Carry on tomorrow"?'

'Yes. I am going on holiday tomorrow.'

'Alone?'

'Well, yes. I was just going to drive around for a while and stop in a B&B . . . or something.'

'I forbid it,' Gwaine said sternly.

'You . . . you what?' I wasn't used to being told what I could and couldn't do.

'I forbid it. It is not safe for a lady.'

'Sir Gwaine, she defeated a dragon earlier.'

Gwaine turned to Legolas. 'YOU may have no code of chivalry, but we knights do.'

Legolas drew himself up to his full height. He was very tall. 'No code of chivalry?' he began. 'No code of . . .?'

This had gone far enough. 'Stop it,' I said, standing, although still dwarfed by Legolas. 'I will sleep in the car tonight and then continue my holiday tomorrow. Thank you for your . . . concern, Sir Gwaine, but I shall be fine.'

I could feel someone take hold of my hand and I looked down. It was Frodo. 'Please come on the quest with us, Lady Elizabeth. We need you.'

All eyes were now looking at me. This was impossible. How could I abandon them in their hour of need? 'Very well,' I sighed, and there was a chorus of approval and excitement.

'Anyway,' I said. 'I shall go back to my car and see you in the morning.'

'You can stay here at the inn,' said Gwaine. I flicked a look at him. 'Your own room!' he added, looking shocked that I had questioned him. 'Gandalf asked me to look after you in the note.'

It seemed like a much better option than the car. 'I need to collect my bag,' I said.

'I will walk with you.'

'I can manage on my own.' I was still rankling a little from his "forbidding" comment.

'I know you can, Beth. But that does not stop me wanting you to be safe,' and he took hold of my hand and looked at me with such puppy dog eyes that I couldn't help but forgive him as my innards turned to a warm fudgy goo.

'OK, let's go.'

It was a pleasant evening for a stroll back to the car. I was feeling comfortably tipsy, the beers seemingly stronger than I had thought. I stumbled a little on the path and Gwaine immediately put out his arm to steady me. I didn't release it and he flashed me a smile.

'What was going on there tonight with the dwarves?'

'Oh? It's Saturday. Dwarf bowling night. Do you have dwarf bowling where you are from?'

'Err no.'

'A shame. The dwarves love it. There's not much work for them around here.'

'And are you enjoying running the inn?'

He paused before he spoke, stopping walking and subconsciously pulling me slightly closer to him while he thought. 'I have to admit that it's not as interesting as being at Camelot.'

'Such a shame it ended,' I said. 'I used to love the quests and the villain of the week. But . . . but . . . didn't you . . .?'

He looked puzzled, but I decided not to pursue it. He was very much alive in the here and now, although I wasn't sure where the here OR the now actually were. But alone with my favourite knight on a wooded path in this distinctly other world was brimming with possibilities.

'How come you and Sir Percival left Camelot?' I asked instead.

'Well, after Arthur finally accepted that Merlin had magic, Morgana decided she'd rather be with Morgause on the Isle of Avalon, and peace reigned through Albion, there wasn't a lot for the knights to do.'

'But what happened to Mordred?'

'He was sent to serve the Great Dragon before the battle of Camlann.'

'So did Arthur win that battle?'

'Oh yes, convincingly.'

'Now THAT would have been a MUCH better ending,' I said emphatically.

'Ending?'

'Never mind, but you have made me SO much happier! Thank you! Erm, while we're alone . . .'

'Yes?' He turned towards me, gently holding my arms, smiling at me with those twinkly eyes.

'Can I . . . can I see if your hair is really as soft as it looks?'

'Oh. Err yes. I suppose so.'

I tentatively reached up my hand and ran it through his hair. It fell beautifully soft through my fingers and I sighed. 'And now will you do the swish?'

'The what?' I demonstrated. 'I do that?' he asked, looking slightly horrified.

'Not often enough.'

It took a couple of practice attempts, but then he nailed it perfectly. I pretended to swoon, and he was immediately concerned for my welfare, clasping my arm, his face full of anxiety, his eyes fixed on mine. As he looked at me, I felt lust kick me firmly in the stomach. But this was ridiculous. He could only be in my imagination. He wasn't real, this wasn't real, and I drew away from him.

'I'll get my bag.'

Gwaine was looking suspiciously at my car as we approached. Instinctively he reached for his non-existent sword and cursed under his breath.

'It is quite safe,' I said as I unlocked it with the remote, but the flash of lights and the beep that accompanied it made him adopt a defensive pose. I walked boldly towards it, although was actually feeling less confident than I looked. What if my car HAD turned into a dragon in this strange place? But it hadn't, and I removed my holdall from the boot. Gwaine had been cautiously circling the car, poised to spring into action should it be required, but as I relocked the car, he took my bag from me.

'You are very brave, Lady Beth,' he acknowledged.

'I trained a long time to control it,' I replied.

We returned to the inn arm in arm. It was obviously closing time as Sir Percival was ensuring an orderly, or rather, disorderly exit from the inn. Percival glanced at Gwaine and me, and then held the door open for us, smiling.

'We will meet for breakfast,' Gwaine announced to the remaining members of the group. 'And plan the quest.'

'First breakfast or second breakfast?' Sam asked.

'First,' Gwaine clarified. Sam looked satisfied.

I followed Gwaine up the steep steps at the rear of the inn. It was a very attractive view. He turned left at the top towards the front of the inn and opened the door onto a surprisingly comfortable room. There was a fire glowing in the grate and a large four poster bed opposite.

'It's . . . very nice,' I said. 'Thank you.'

''What were you expecting? We've had Elven Queens stay here, you know.'

'And now me,' I grinned. 'Erm . . . the, errr . . . ?'

'Next door,' he said. 'Percival's room is at the end of the corridor and mine is directly above yours, if you need us. Me.'

'Thank you, Sir Gwaine.'

'Sleep well,' he said, and closed the door behind him.

Settled in the warm, comfortable bed following using the, well, basic facilities, I began to take stock of the evening's events. I'd met, apparently, Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, the hobbits, and Sir Percival and Sir Gwaine. Mmm, Sir Gwaine. And I was in The Crossed Swords Inn in the middle of a mysterious forest surrounded by people, and other creatures, I didn't know. I went back to thinking about Sir Gwaine.

'